[The acid-guitar slowly arpeggiates a driving, lonesome rhythm. The melody sweeps into a cinematic, operatic crescendo.] The high plains listen to the desert wind ,But my heart is caught where the Old World sinned. Midnight in Madrid. Oh, the castanets were clackin' like a rattlesnake's tail, When I stole that golden chronometer right off the rail. Now I'm drinkin' bitter cactus in the prairie dust, Where a cowboy's honor crumbles into highway rust. It’s twelve o'clock... Midnight in Madrid. Twelve thousand miles from the wrong I did. But the ghost of her eyes in the Spanish dark, Burns through my chest like a brand in' spark. [The music drops to a quiet, steady rhythm. Viola and violin weave a sweeping, tragic acid-melody.] Did she love the American drifter in black? Or was it the gold that I carried in sack? The Atlantic is wide, but the frontier is deep, And a man pays the price for the promises he’ll never keep. Midnight in Madrid... Midnight in Madrid.
